


Raging Fire

by molmcmahon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Leverage
Genre: Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3873532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molmcmahon/pseuds/molmcmahon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gets captured by the muggle military and law enforcement five years after the war. A month later, no one has seen or heard from him. One of their school mates, Penelope Clearwater, has a suggestion about how to find and rescue him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raging Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own either Leverage or Harry Potter.
> 
> So... there is a serious lack of hp/leverage fics. And I just finished watching it a few weeks ago and bam, a roughly planned out series flew into my mind.

 

Harry was wandering around Washington, D.C, the muggle part of it at least, when his magic flared. As he was near the Washington monument, there were a lot of people around. Though as he looked around, it was mostly muggles. He couldn't see any sign of wizards or witches.

He raised an eyebrow, wondering what had triggered his magic to warn him. He saw nothing suspicious though there were various people that looked like they were in some kind of muggle law enforcement. He shrugged and kept walking, certain that they were probably here for someone else. Harry wasn't even on the muggle law enforcement radar and he knew that no wizard or witch was on the muggle watch list. It was a whole different story if a wizard or witch was on the Ministry's watch list but that was what he was here for anyway.

He was almost done with his auror training, just a few months from the completion ceremony.

Shouts drew him out of his thoughts and he glanced around the park around him. A tank, a real muggle military tank had rolled up and was surrounded with soldiers. The shouts and yells he had heard were civilians running away, shooed off by military officials.

“And what do I owe the pleasure of being surrounded by soldiers?” Harry called out, turning toward the guy who looked like he was in charge. The guy was wearing muggle body armor, the kind that was suppose to provide camouflage. But it wasn't like Harry knew anything about the muggle military.

“Harry Potter, you're under arrest.”

“Huh...” Harry muttered, his eyes widening. They knew his name... How... “What are you charging me with?”

By now, the entire surrounding area and park was deserted. There was no one around but him and the muggle military. Did they know that he was... They couldn't know he was a wizard, let alone something else. He hadn't done anything within a mile of a muggle... though there had been that one time.

The soldiers slowly began to close in on him, raising their rifles. Harry slowly pulled his wand out and jumped as he felt a pinprick at his neck. His vision began to blur, black spots entered his vision as his body began to shake. The last thing he saw was the tank driving towards him and soldiers running towards him.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ron, it's been a month!” Hermione said, raising her voice. “No one's seen him since he went to Washington, D.C.! I've had to tell Teddy that he's on a job and Harry's not on a job! He's been taken! I just know it!”

“I know, Hermione. I know. I just... There hasn't been a trace of him,” Ron replied, sighing. “Even Draco hasn't heard anything from his contacts.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Draco hasn't heard anything because Harry was taken by the muggle military. We haven't been investigating them.”

“Hermione...” Ron murmured, reaching out an arm to stop her pacing. “It's the muggle military. You know what that means.”

“Just because I've heard bad things about it and the FBI, doesn't mean that they...” Hermione trailed off. “What are we going to do? I'm worried about him.”

“He wouldn't do anything to jeopardize himself,” Ron commented. “We know he wouldn't. Has there been any communication from the... groups?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, there hasn't been anything from them. At least that's what Draco said.”

“Ah, right. I'll talk with Kingsley, see what more we can do.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ron sighed as he walked out of the Minister's office. Hermione wouldn't like what the minister had to say. He didn't like what Kingsley had to say.

“Ron? Anything?”

Hermione and Penelope Clearwater were standing just outside of the Minister's office, looking at him hopefully. Draco was there too, though more subtle with his worry.

“Nothing,” Ron replied grimly. “Our hands are tied. Apparently the American wizards don't like us right now. We can't go in to the States, especially to the capital of the muggle United States. Something about territories.”

“Sounds like a pissing contest,” Draco remarked as the four of them strode out and into the hallway leading to the fireplaces. He sighed and moved a strand of hair out of his face. “Or it could be the lack of steady law enforcement here.”

“We're working on rebuilding here,” Ron complained, frowning.

“How will we get Harry back then? We can't go there and we have no friends in the muggle world there...” Hermione said, trailing off with a haunted look in her eyes.

“Guys...” Penelope started, looking around them at the various wizards and witches around them.

“Yeah?” Hermione said curiously.

“I have an idea. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Spill, Clearwater,” Draco ordered, sitting down in the booth at the pub later that day. Ron was going to get drinks for them and Hermione was sitting down next to her friend from school.

“Draco...” Hermione muttered.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Please.”

Penelope snorted. “Let's wait for Ron.”

“Alright, what did I miss?” Ron asked a few minutes later, setting down drinks at the table. He had just gotten butter beer for the evening, thinking that they would all need to be sober for this. Whatever Penelope had in mind.

“Okay. I was thinking... If we can't go and if the American wizards won't do anything, then we need to ask someone in the muggle world to help us,” Penelope explained.

“We don't know anyone in the muggle world that would be able to find and rescue Harry,” Hermione said.

“We don't,” Penelope responded, nodding agreement. “My parents do. They have heard of someone that works... in this line of work.”

“This line of work?” Draco repeated, more than a little confused and a lot incredulous. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Retrieval,” Penelope said quietly.

“Retrieval?” Ron echoed. “Retrieval of what?”

“I think... anything. I'm not sure.”

“This person... Is he or she a wizard?” Hermione asked.

“No, he's not. He's a muggle but he knows about our world,” Penelope answered.

“A muggle? I don't know if I would trust the guy,” Draco complained. “And how does he know about our world without getting obliviated?”

“He's sneaky,” Penelope retorted. “My father had hired him to do a job and he said the guy was trustworthy.”

“So... the guy would retrieve Harry if we paid him to?” Hermione questioned, staring at Penelope.

“Yeah, I think so. We would need a secure place to meet him. And a way to pay him.”

Draco glanced to Hermione before nodding. “I can pay him. If Harry was here, he would pay the guy but as I'm the only--”

“Ow,” Draco grumbled, hand going to his side where Hermione had elbowed him. “I wasn't going to say it.”

“Good.”

Ron and Penelope chuckled.

“We can meet him in Harry's muggle apartment,” Hermione said. “That's secure enough, right?”

Penelope nodded. “Yeah, it should be. I'll make the initial phone call. Or get my dad to.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

“What does he look like again?” Ron asked as Hermione was pacing in the living room. The four of them were at Harry's apartment in London, anxious and hopeful. It had been a few days since Penelope had made first contact with the guy, who had said he would need a few days to get over to London. Penelope could have sworn that she had heard gunshots over the phone and that had scared her a little. Though not as much as she had feared having Death Eaters for teachers their last year at Hogwarts.

“Probably like James Bond,” Hermione muttered.

“I actually don't know what he looks like,” Penelope said, sitting down on the couch across from Ron.

“Who's James Bond?” Ron questioned, turning to look at Draco, who was sitting on the chair in the corner.

Draco glanced at Ron, raised an eyebrow. “You think I know who that is? It sounds like a muggle name. How would I know that?”

“You have... sources though,” Ron replied, going over to check out the window.

“Back to the problem at hand,” Hermione said. “Penelope, you don't know what he looks like?”

“No, I didn't ask.”

Draco sighed, put his hand on his forehead. “Great.”

“...There's someone coming up the steps,” Ron interrupted, closing the window blinds.

“What does he look like?” Hermione asked, walking over to Draco's side. She was a few months pregnant and it had just been an hour since her morning sickness had stopped today. Draco moved over in the chair to make room for her, slipping an arm around her as she sat down.

“He's maybe an inch shorter than Harry, with somewhat long, dark, brown hair,” Ron described. “He doesn't look like a retrieval specialist. He kind of looks like one of those American cowboys.”

“Ron, what exactly do you think a retrieval specialist looks like?” Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes. “We've never even heard of retrieval specialists. And where did you learn about American cowboys?”

Ron smiled sheepishly. “Point taken. Uh, I may have seen them in a history book?”

“Which history book?” Hermione questioned.

“One of yours?” Ron tried.

Hermione snorted. “Well, it wouldn't have been from Hogwarts.”

“What's his name again?” Hermione asked, turning to look at Penelope.

“Eliot Spencer.”

A knock on the door made everyone go silent then Penelope got up to open the door. She opened the door and stared at the man on the other side. He had a few cuts and scrapes on his face but most of his forehead and hair was hidden by a beanie cap.

“You the Clearwater woman?”

“Yeah. You're the guy I talked to on the phone?” Penelope asked, stepping aside to let the man in. Spencer nodded then moved into the house, looking around for a few minutes before turning back to her.

“You need something retrieved?”

“Someone,” Draco spoke, raising his voice a little and stepping into the middle of the living room.

“I thought y'll could find things,” Spencer muttered, a hint of a growl to his voice. “And people.”

“It wasn't wizards who took our friend,” Hermione said tentatively. “We can't find him when he's being hidden.”

Spencer looked at all of them, eyes staying on Draco briefly before looking back at Hermione. “Who is it that you need me to find?”

“Harry Potter,” Ron explained. “Our friend.”

Spencer nodded. “I heard something a few years back. That him?”

“How in Merlin's name do you know about that?” Draco asked, narrowing his eyes. “And why hasn't the Ministry said something?”

“You didn't even hear about what I do before a few days ago,” Spencer remarked, staring at Draco.

Draco stared back before shrugging and returning to Hermione's side. He really wasn't sure he wanted to get into it with the guy.

“The last we heard from Harry, he was in Washington, D.C,” Hermione mentioned, glancing at Draco before turning back to Spencer. “I'm pretty sure he's still there.”

“Do you know for sure?”

“No but I just... have a feeling,” Hermione replied. “He was taken by the military.”

Spencer nodded slightly. “Alright. Payment?”

“I'll have it sent to your bank account after you return him here safely,” Draco remarked. “We will also have the American wizards obliviate whoever is involved. You won't need to worry about being seen afterward.”

“One other thing?” Hermione said as Spencer walked over to the door.

“Yeah?”

“Harry's very powerful. If he really was captured, he might have trouble settling afterwards,” Ron finished.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. “Define 'very powerful'.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Eliot moved through the military base with ease. No one paid him any mind, not with what he was wearing. He had pulled out his old military clothing from one of his safe houses, corrected a few pieces of out to date information and called in a few favors. The base that the Potter guy was being held in was a base that was commonly frequented by the US Navy Seals.

It was also teaming with members of the FBI and CIA, which was unusual for this base.

His clients had told him about Harry Potter, the guy he was being paid to retrieve. It kind of sounded to him like Potter had been through as much shit as he had been. And now through his contacts and sources, he had heard that the military was going to try to experiment on him. See where the magic came from.

If Eliot had known where his target was before hand, he wouldn't have taken this job. But as it was, Eliot was just a few months out from getting away from Moreau. He continued to walk along the hallway, old military habits coming out like they were muscle memory. He passed a few FBI agents and ignored them, just like a good soldier would do.

Once he heard someone mention Potter, he corrected himself and turned to follow the CIA agent. There were a few doctors running around too which was a little worrying. He had figured on having the wizard's help getting out, if things went south. Now, Potter might be too out of it to help or even walk.

Eliot sighed and continued to follow the guy, turning another corner just at the end of the hallway. The CIA agent turned to look at him briefly, narrowed his eyes.

“You're not suppose to be here.”

Eliot shrugged, looked beyond the agent to the door where he could hear screams. “I know.”

The agent's eyes widened and he reached for his radio. Eliot took two steps toward the agent and knocked him out in three.

Eliot glanced down at the nearly unconscious agent and sighed again. “That was sloppy. You should have just called me in when you saw me.”

The agent groaned and passed out.

Eliot moved quickly past the agent, knowing that it was only a matter of time before alarms went off. He pushed open the double doors ahead of him and knocked out a scientist that was right behind the door. The other people in the room stared at him. The seven soldiers in the room drew their weapons, clicked the safeties off. The two scientists in the room stopped what they were doing, with one going to sound the alarm.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Harry groaned as the doctors came up to him again, heard the scientists mutter amongst themselves. Something about how they weren't finding anything that would indicate that he could use magic. He felt a pinprick on his arm and shuddered even though he couldn't move at all due to being restrained with thick leather wraps.

His vision went blurry as whatever they had drugged him with took affect. He almost decided to succumb to the drug as it had been a while since... It felt like he had been captured several months ago or at least it felt that way. And no help had come. None. Not even his friends had come. Not even his team of aurors.

But when he heard a very distinct thud against the door, he used the little magic and strength that he had stored away. The drug burned out really quickly, eaten away by his magic. The fire that burned inside him ate away at the rest of the drugs that remained in his system as he heard the door open and guns being raised.

Thuds and the sound of flesh hitting more skin came to him. A red alarm klaxon sounded, loud and persistent, in his ear. He winced and heard guns going off, bullets hitting someone. But oddly enough, he didn't sense any magic. Whoever was attacking the US military was not a wizard or witch.

Finally, everything was quiet. No more bullets, no more thumps from flesh hitting flesh. Harry idly thought that whoever this person was, he should be careful around him or her. He was also... a little curious. Who was this person who could fight his way through several well trained soldiers? Then he heard a rather weird sound, more than one sound as the minutes flashed by. It was... He tried to turn his head around to see what the person was doing but as he was restrained completely, he couldn't.

“You Harry Potter?”

The voice was a growl almost, husky sounding as Harry heard footsteps coming closer toward him. It almost had a southern quality to it and it was definitely male.

“Yeah?” Harry croaked out as whoever it was came to a stop before the table that Harry was tied to. The guy had moderately long, dark brown hair and he was wearing the traditional armor of the US military but Harry could tell that the guy was clearly not a part of the military. “...Who're you?”

“The guy who was hired to get you out. Can you walk?”

“Yeah, could you just... maybe untie me first?”

The guy snorted and went about cutting the rough leather straps off of Harry. “Your magic not up to speed yet?”

Harry started, turning to stare at the guy. “You know?”

“Your friends are the ones who hired me. Red haired guy and bushy, brown haired girl? Bossy blond guy? That ringing any bells for you?”

Harry smiled and sat up slowly as soon as the guy finished cutting the straps. The floor spun briefly, nausea roiling his stomach. The other man took one look at him and looked around the room, quickly walking over to grab a pail and bringing it over to Harry. “Don't puke on me.”

Harry rolled his eyes, felt something come up his throat, shuddered and quickly turned to face into the bucket. Once he felt he was done, he sighed and slowly slid over to the edge of the table. The guy, after putting the bucket down, stared at him.

Harry returned the stare, looking into wary blue eyes. “What? Did you expect wings or something? I only show those on the third date, thank you.”

The guy's lips twitched up into a hesitant smile. Harry could see that it did not reach the guy's eyes.

Shouts rang through the door beyond the immediate doors to the room. And that was when Harry realized that he forgot that there were alarms ringing throughout the base. He tentatively swung his legs onto the floor and glanced at the guy only to stop and stare.

“You're hurt.”

The guy looked down at his chest, gaze stopping on the bullet wound in his chest and the one in his left leg. “Forget about them. We ain't got time for them now. We need to get out of here.”

Harry's eyes widened, feeling his legs steady somewhat. He had spent a month on that table, he now realized after glancing up at the calendar that was on the wall across from them. “Forget about them? You were shot! Twice!”

“Forget about them. I was paid to return you to England safely and that's what I'm gonna do.”

Harry glared at the guy and the guy returned to the look. “Fine. Let's get out of here.”

“What about... apparition? Can't you do that?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the guy. “I am not going to apparate with you in that condition. Besides, my magic isn't up to speed yet.”

The guy snorted and walked over to the door. Harry sighed and walked over to stand across from him. “I never said my other kind of magic wasn't up to speed.”

The guy stared at him, raised an eyebrow.

“Using that kind of magic shouldn't jostle your wounds too much,” Harry explained, hearing soldiers burst in from the door in front of them and another door on the other side of the room.

“You were just drugged to the gils a few minutes ago,” the guy retorted.

“We're just going to get out of here then. It's not like I'm going to get us all the way back to Europe.”

The guy eyed him, giving Harry a thorough once over look, and finally nodded, holding out a hand. Harry nodded back, lightly grasped the guy's warm hand and closed his eyes, feeling the fire within him burn higher.

The soldiers around them stared as fire surrounded both men in front of them. Then they disappeared in a flash, without a sound.

 

* * *

 

 

Eliot opened his eyes as soon as the moving sensation stopped. They were in a house, one that was small and uncluttered with furniture. Potter let go of his hand and went to go sit on the edge of the bed that was in the corner of the apartment. Eliot watched him for a minute then Potter sighed and stood up.

“That felt good. Now you sit while I patch you up.”

“You used the rest of your magic to do that, didn't you?” Eliot asked. He knew enough to know that. He had seen plenty of wizards who had used up their magic and this guy wasn't any different, regardless of whether or not he was mostly human. “You can't patch me up. I'll do it. Where are we anyways?”

“We're at a safe house,” Potter answered, gesturing to the bed. “Sit. I know non magical emergency first aid. Sit.”

“US military knew about you.”

Potter turned to glare at him, pointing at the bed. “The wards are up. Go sit while I go fetch what I have.”

Eliot stared at the guy before grudgingly doing what he said.

“You don't willingly show injury, do you?”

Potter came back in a few minutes later to stare at him. “Alright, not trying to pry here. I'll patch you up and then we can both go our separate ways. That sound good?”

“My job was to get you back to Europe. I'm not about to leave the job unfinished.”

“You'll get paid anyway. I'll see to that.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Harry stood up and watched as the guy walked over to the door. Harry had done all that he could, taking out the bullets and cleaning and bandaging the wounds. The guy had gone pale and started to sweat a little while Harry was working but he could tell that it wasn't bothering the guy. Much.

“Could I at least get your name?” Harry asked as the guy opened the door.

“You could ask your friends.”

Harry stared at the guy.

“Eliot Spencer.”

The guy... Eliot stepped out the door and took off. Harry waited until he couldn't see Eliot anymore then went back inside.

 

 


End file.
